The Mother and the Musician
by turntable1622
Summary: Cello Simpson, a homeless and scrappy jazz musician, finds new luck after saving the life of Vanilla the Rabbit. Now living with Vanilla and her incredibly musically gifted daughter, Cream, Cello decides to try toregain his notoriety as one of the top bass guitarists in New Mobotropolis.


THE MOTHER AND THE MUSICIAN

Chapter 1

Vanilla was a woman who never had much to complain about. She had a wonderful life, a lovely daughter, and good health. But, if there was one thing in Mobius that she simply could not stand, it was the polluted city of New Mobotropolis. Once a confident and booming city, New Mobotropolis had reduced itself to a wasteland of crime, poverty, and smut. Wherever she went, the motherly Rabbit would always come across something she could never approve. She would always see dastardly gangs gathering to plan a crime, strip clubs with Pimps spewing obscenities at the women whom they treated as objects, and, worst of all, the mangled and ripped bodies of those who were mugged or senselessly murdered. Vanilla always averted her eyes from those bodies; always fighting back her tears for those poor souls.

Vanilla never truly understood why she went there every week. But, as a mother, she knew that she had to risk her safety to provide for her daughter, Cream.

Vanilla was just exiting the grocery store after gathering enough food to make dinner for Cream and herself for the night.

"I got her favorite!" The Rabbit thought to herself excitedly. " Spaghetti and meatballs with chocolate ice cream for dessert!"

Vanilla always did her best to make her daughter happy. Cream was a well-educated, innocent, and overall happy child who truly respected life around her. She always took care of her pet Chao, Cheese, and was also dedicated to what she put her mind to. An exceptional pianist and violinist, Cream loved to play classical music for her mother whenever she wanted to show her the results of her constant practicing. She would play her the works of Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Chopin, Verdi, and many others. Vanilla was so proud that her daughter had grown to become such a prodigy at her instruments, even when music such as classical had become so devoid of attention. It always amazed her how her daughter never seemed to follow what her other friends listened to. Instead of listening to trashy pop music like her friends, Cream would rather relax herself to a cup of tea and play Beethoven's 5th symphony on the family record player.

" She deserves a great meal after practicing so hard for so long." Vanilla thought to herself while approaching her vehicle. " Her teacher sure does work wonders."

Cream's teacher, a scrawny yet stern Wolf named James Nielson, always practiced with Cream for an hour and a half every Tuesday and Thursday. Vanilla never observed the practice sessions, but always assumed that James was the right teacher for her daughter based on the results.

"Well... whatever he's doing appears to be working."

As the Rabbit approached her car, a sudden feeling of fear swept over her like a tidal wave. The scene was dark, cold, and misty. Vanilla noticed that there was no one around but her in the lot…or so she thought.

As Vanilla was about to reach for the car door, she could hear footsteps approaching her from behind. At first, she just assumed that it was an ordinary person trying to find his way through the treacherous city. But, this was no ordinary person and she found this out as soon as she noticed the evil look in his eyes.

Vanilla could feel the pressure within her mounting, as she desperately tried to unlock her car and get out as fast as she could.

But the criminal caught up to her.

While being forcefully turned around, Vanilla was horrified to discover a Raccoon with bloodshot eyes and sharp knife in his hand. Vanilla froze in her tracks, completely petrified at the sight of the Raccoon. Upon further inspection, the Rabbit could see the dark red stains of blood covering the criminal's knife.

"Oh god…" Vanilla thought. "He's done this before!"

After spitting on the ground, the Raccoon pointed the bloody knife directly at Vanilla's throat. Trying to search for words, Vanilla spoke to the criminal in utter fear,

"Please…just…just take the food…and…and leave."

The Raccoon smiled sadistically and responded,

"Oh…I didn't come here for the food…darling."

Vanilla gasped in horror, as the Raccoon positioned his knife at Vanilla's bra strap and began to tear away at it.

"No…please." Vanilla pleaded with tears filling her eyes. "I have a daughter…"

"Don't worry, babe." The disgusting Raccoon snarled in her ear. " I'll make this nice and quick."

Vanilla, disgusted by the sick Raccoon, spat at his face on impulse. In retaliation, the Raccoon slapped her viciously with his expression of twisted lust turning into that of awful violence. Vanilla fell to the ground from the force of the slap, as she looked up in terror at the rapist.

"Ok, you sneaky bitch!" The Raccoon spat. "I just wanted a little fun for myself…but I guess you want to play it rough, eh?"

With that said, the Raccoon violently grabbed her leg.

"No…I'll scream!" Vanilla sobbed as she struggled to break free, but to no avail.

The Raccoon laughed at her statement insultingly.

"In this town? I don't think the police will ever try to revive your sorry ass when I'm through with you, you dumb bitch!"

Vanilla couldn't fight the criminal, no matter how hard she tried to squirm from his grasp. He was just simply too strong for her. With her tears beginning to stream down her delicate face, the Rabbit closed her eyes and prepared for the worst.

"Cream…I'm so sorry!" She took one last thought of her daughter.

"Say goodnight, Princess!"

OOO

" Ok…what's on the menu tonight?"

A homeless cat looked deeply into a garbage can full of discarded foods.

"Hm…let's see." He began observantly. "Rotten Apple…no, French Fries…nah, Pizza crust…nope."

The Cat lowered his head and sighed at what he was doing. He then looked at himself in a nearby puddle and gazed into his reflection. All the Cat could see was a dirty, hopeless loser. His clothes were dirty and torn and he was skinnier than a rail. His hair had grown disproportionate and stretched in various directions. Worst of all, the pain that resided within him seemed to worsen with every breath he took.

The Cat lowered his head and sighed deeply. He then let out a painful cough, as he held his throat and held back a few tears.

"Jesus Christ…wow."

Deciding that he had lost his appetite, the Cat walked away from the trash can and sat down against a brick wall. He let his head hit against the wall, as he let out a sigh of depression.

"Can't believe I've been going at it like this for almost a year!"

The Cat rubbed his hands together in a desperate attempt to gain some amount of warmth in the cold air. Winter was coming soon, and the Cat only had a torn white shirt and sweat pants with numerous amounts on holes in them. His blanket was the only thing that gave him some sort of comfort in the cold seasons, despite it being short enough only to cover the upper half of his body.

The Cat's name was Cello Simpson, and he was living the typical musician's life.

"I swear if I had my bass with me I'd pull in quite a few bucks!"

If anyone had heard Cello's playing, no one would argue! The Cat was one of the most exceptional bass players in the business.

"But," He wondered to himself constantly, "Why am I on the streets?"

Cello pondered to himself. He wasn't always like this. In fact, before becoming homeless, he was one of Mobius' best Jazz musicians. He taught students, wowed experts with his style and expertise, and captivated audiences with the vibes he gave off on stage.

"Well, that was then… and this is now."

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream echoed through the alleyway as Cello sprung to his feet in a flash.

The scream was earsplitting. Cello could tell that there was another attack going on, but he never got involved. Yet, for some odd reason, the desperate cry for help had him heading outside the alley to see what was going on.

Cello sprinted out of his corner and bolted towards the nearby parking lot where the scream was coming from. Despite having no shoes and numerous cuts and bruises on his feet, the Cat fought through the pain and eventually made it to the parking lot.

What he saw made his fur stand up and his stomach tight with fear.

This beautiful, attractive Rabbit was in the clutches of a notorious criminal in New Mobotropolis. The Raccoon's name was Trevor "The Slayer" Goodman, and he "liked to play it rough" with his victims. The Rabbit was desperately trying to thrust herself out of the psychopath's grasp, but with every try, she failed miserably.

"Oh, God." Cello thought in horror. " He's going to rape her! I…I have to do something!"

Cello was well aware of what the Raccoon enjoyed a good fight…even fights to the death. His only chance of saving the Rabbit was to pick a fight with Trevor.

"But, how can I stop him? I haven't eaten in days and I barely stand on my own two feet!"

It was true. Cello was not as strong as he had been in previous years. After almost a year of having to go through trashcans for food and surviving on the streets, it was a miracle that Cello was even alive.

"I don't know what to do!" Cello stressed. "He's going to kill her! But, how the hell can I fight this guy? He's too strong and I'm too weak! It's suicide! Damn!"

Suddenly, something awoke inside of Cello. It was a feeling that he had never felt in years. And it all happened when he was caught in the gaze of the Rabbit's tear soaked eyes.

Despite being under terrible circumstances, the Rabbit's eyes were the most beautiful and mesmerizing things that he had ever laid his eyes on. Her eyes were light brown, and the glaze provided by her tears of sadness reflected a shine that immediately hit Cello's soul. Her eyelashes were long, but elegant, and this only added to the Rabbit's beauty. Her ears were long and slanted downwards toward her back, and, to top it all off, just the mere look of desperation that the Rabbit gave Cello embraced his soul.

Cello immediately put away any thought of running away from the situation. This woman had to stay alive.

"No," Cello thought. "I can't run. This woman does not deserve to die."

Cello had a new sense of purpose in his life, and that purpose was to protect this woman.

"Well…"he thought. "Here goes nothing."


End file.
